Christmas Eve
by The JohhnyMcKilt Productions
Summary: Oneshot.The Majestics wait out Christmas Day with nothing but total boredom to see them through.


A/N: Sincerely apologizing to the inactivity. This piece is a bit stiff for my liking. I can't write as well as I'd like recently. Anyway...hope you enjoy!xD

**Christmas Eve**

_**Oneshot**_

9.02am

Oliver's head met the kitchen table with a painful-sounding thud.

This happened for a few more times before an irate Johnny checked in on him to see what was happening.

"Oi," he began, rapping sharply on the kitchen doorway. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

"I'm bored," came Oliver's muffled voice from beneath his fluffy hair.

The redhead's eyebrow rose. "Well holy crap, don't pass the time being a tard," he said and promptly left.

Oliver's groan went unheard.

- - - -

11.23am

"Can both of you take your pyromania elsewhere?" Robert asked, watching Enrique and Johnny squatting beside a pile of scratch papers on a baking pan.

"We'd rather not burn anything in Oliver's place," the Scot said cheerfully as the blond beside him tried creating sparks with two garden stones.

"Of course," their team captain replied tartly. "And setting his garden alight instead justifies that how?"

"Relax Robert!" Enrique exclaimed as Johnny took the garden stones from him and took his lighter out instead. "Even if a draft blows the lighted bits away, they'll fall on the snow and go out."

Robert huffed but nevertheless watched the two in ironic fascination. Three things then happened one after the other in such a fashion fit to laugh at...if you weren't one directly involved.

A light breeze blew a couple of flaming papers off the baking pan. They floated innocuously toward a passing lorry, creaky and gleaming teal with petrol.

Three pairs of eyes went wide as the moving tank burst into flames.

"Holy shit RUN!" Enrique hissed and grabbed Johnny's hand.

The Scot 'oomph'-ed but complied, making sure to kick over the baking pan, leaving their fire to steam out on the gray snow. Robert stumbled after the two, unable to take his eyes and his belief off the burning spectacle, but at the same time unwilling to get caught.

The three of them burst into Oliver's kitchen, where the French boy was jumping up and down as he looked out the window by the sink.

"Oh my god, was that a fire ball?!" he asked wildly and pivoted to acknowledge his friends.

Robert, Enrique and Johnny couldn't answer. Behind the greenette, they saw the flaming lorry attempting to blow out the fire by speeding. It only grew worse and people scattered left and right to get out of the vehicle's way.

"You did NOT see anything," the Italian among the boys in the kitchen declared defiantly after a few moments of stunned silence, forcefully jabbing Johnny's arm.

The redhead jabbed him in return. "Damn straight!"

There was a resounding explosion in the distance. The ground slightly shook.

"What the hell did you three do?!" Oliver exclaimed in alarm.

Robert rolled his eyes and willed away an oncoming migraine. "If the authorities find out and come over, I don't know you two..."

- - - -

3.34pm

"I made lunch!"

Oliver finally emerged from the kitchen, sporting a mysterious red bruise smack in the middle of his forehead his friends didn't bother to ask about.

Robert and Johnny looked up from their heated chess game. Enrique awoke with a jolt from his afternoon nap and fell off the couch.

"Oh goodie, first meal of the day," he managed to say and jogged over to the kitchen to help the French boy bring out the dishes to the living hall.

A few minutes later, the four of them were seated around the low coffee table, cross-legged on the carpet. They were staring at their meals in a puzzled sort of way.

"Pancakes, eggs and sausages at four in the afternoon, Oliver?" Johnny asked.

Enrique, looking half-asleep, liberally poured maple syrup on his pancakes and messily spread the butter on them. Without much ceremony, he then proceeded to shovel the food down his mouth. Oliver beamed and also started to eat.

The German and the Scot exchanged hopeless looks and gingerly poked at their sausages, both wondering whether Oliver's loose screw happened to fall somewhere there. It wasn't a normal phenomenon, but it wasn't a harm to check once in a while either. After all, everyone was bound to have days like these.

Robert and Johnny came to the conclusion that they wouldn't go insane having breakfast at four in afternoon and started eating as well.

- - - -

6.47pm

The only light that was on was in the living hall.

The particular hour caught the Majestics on the couch, staring at air. The remains of their breakfast lunch lay crusting on plates on the low coffee table.

Oliver and Enrique eventually fell asleep on top of each other.

- - - -

9.59pm

It was dark in the Les Desmond Mansion.

The only light on was still in the living hall, but no one was there.

Hurried scuffles were heard in the upper floors where the bedrooms were. Wrapping papers were heard ripping throughout the length of the unlighted hallway. Ribbons were fwipping and scissors were frenziedly cutting their way through the gift wrapping.

A few thuds and curses added to the mix, creating a very noisy dark hallway indeed.

- - - -

12.37am

"Oi, OI! Don't stand on the couch! Enrique, you—"

"Oliver, stop cursing in French! No one understands you, curse in English!"

"Fuck that sh—"

"FLY AWAAAAY! SKYLINE PIDGEON FLY AWAAAAY!"

"OI! STOP SCREAMING AT THE KARAOKE MACHINE!"

"Johnny, you'll wake our neighbors..."

"WE AIN'T GOT NEIGHBORS YOU BLOODY TARD!"

"WHY YOU UNCOUTH LITTLE—"

"ROBERT'S HAD TOO MUCH EGGNOG!"

"WHOA NELLY!"

There was a thud.

"UWAAA! ENRIQUE, ARE YOU ALRIGHT?!"

"I GOT A 99! BEAT THAT LES DESMOND!"

"DAMN STRAIGHT I WILL! DANCING QUEEEN! YOUNG AND SWEET! ONLY SEVENTEEEEEN!"

"HOLY CRAP! WILL YOU THREE SHUT. UP!"

"Oh lighten up, Rob!"

"SI! HAVE MORE BEER! ...eh?! Johnny, not that wa—"

There was a healthy sploshing of liquid from a bottle.

"SHIT! ...uuUWAAAHAHAHAHA!"

"JOHNNY RUINED MY CARPET!"

"YOU'RE SO DEAD, MCGREGGOR!"

"YAAAAGH!"

"AHA! Robert looks like a right moron with an egg cracked over his head, doesn't he En?"

"...hey Oli, let's strip him and lick the beer off his naked abs!"

"...what?"

"OI!"

"GUYS! SAVE ME!"

Discarded gift wrappers, couch fluff, empty mugs and beer bottles were strewn on the beer-stained carpet.

The long wait for Christmas day was finally over and all the gifts that needed to be exchanged were already exchanged and opened. Three games of spin the bottle passed them and a few heartfelt gratitudes, or rather confessions, were revealed. So now, the Majestics were wasting themselves on almost anything, be it drinks or singing, in full holiday swing.

Their drunken states were quite intimidating.

"SHIT! AN 83?!"

"BWAAAAHAHAHAHA! A BET'S A BET, MCGREGGOR! YOU'VE GOT TO DRINK THE ENTIRE BEER CASE!"

"SHIT!"

"I'LL HELP!"

"NO HELPING THE BITCH!"

"AAARGH! GREAT IDEA ROB! JOHN'S OUR BITCH TONIGHT!"

"STIP POKER, YEAH!"

Everyone stared at Enrique, who still had his arms raised in the enthusiasm of the suggestion.

"You WANT to be the bitch tonight, En?" Johnny asked. Robert merely downed another bottle of beer in one go and Oliver smirked evilly.

"STRIP HIM!"

"...ah crud."

**END**

A/N: See? Total worthlessne—I mean crack. I don't know if I can come up with a more decent fic for New Years. Actually, due to late typing, this IS my New Years fic. Thanks for sticking by us in our most unproductive year ever! Haha! Till 2009!


End file.
